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Cleared
Mi''litary Base -- New Alderaan: Ord Mantell'' '' The recently expanded military base sits at the southern edge of the tall hills wrapping around New Alderaan. The Skyline Transit has three stations here, connected to the compound by a wide, elevated walkway. The base is defended by energy fencing on all sides, with guard towers and defense batteries placed at strategic intervals.'' '' The front entrance leads into a public reception area. Beyond the security checkpoint lies a large, central Parade Field. The field is the central part of the campus, surrounded by the structures that make up the entire base. To the north lie the barracks and crew bunkers. To the south lies the GroundOps Command Center, complete with an impressive training center, armory, and prison facility. To the east lies the FleetOps and StarOps Command Center, a larger building, with two branches representing the Navy and Starfighter Corps extending beyond and framing the landing zone beyond. To reach the landing zone, one must go through the main entrance of these joint command centers, passing through yet another security checkpoint.'' Just another day in her box. All told, the 'box', as Kovani's come to name her arrested situation, is not incredibly awful compared to detention facilities her former affiliates operate. A one room apartment in base housing has been converted and secured appropriately for political prisoners, and it's in this that she's been dwelling. The petite blond is currently perched on the end of her arm chair, scrolling through news headlines for the day. May as well experience the outside world in any way she can... Over the years there was a sort of switch in Drax's life. The time he had spent "at home" was his life and the time in the field was the less wanted part. Each time he had gone out, since leaving StarOps, the balance had tipped a little bit in the opposite direction. Now, coming back in from the cold wasn't quite the same for him as it was most other agents. It took a trip back from Nar Shaddaa to really feel it and the thought of it was nagging at him as something he needed to fix. The want for a home and a life... maybe that was enough to let him know he was still on a decent path. Drax had put his time on the trip home to good use, managing to nab a shower, shave, and clean change of clothes. There was something about a clean pair of socks and a fresh white shirt that could always help revitalize him. He's walking briskly, checking his chronometer as he reaches the security checkpoint at the end of the hall. With a quick flash of his ID card and a scan to verify, he was on his way and hitting the buzzer for Kovani's residence. In doing so, he clears his other thoughts and focuses on the task at hand. Lights out so soon? Liora rises from her seat with a sigh and shuffles to the door to present herself in range of the vid recorder. "I'm here," she announces, staring up into the lens she knows is there. Drax eyes over the picture on the vid monitor to ensure all is well within the monitored living space as the subject checks in. Maintain distance, do not form any attachments, be neutral. He taps a button on the display to activate the intercom. "Senior Agent Rendolen here to see you. Permission to enter?" The use of the full rank and title just didn't sit well with Drax, he'd never really liked it. Eyes of glacial blue stare at the monitor on her end, eyeballing the unfamiliar agent with just a small measure of annoyance. "Let's skip the meaningless formalities. It's not my permisson you needed. Or have." Stepping aside with a slap to the door lock (also meaningless, she's learned) Liora opens the gateway to her posh lair of boredom. Dressed in plain, blue slacks and button-up tunic, she's retained most of the neatness instilled into her from childhood. Most. Her hair, at least, is not tucked into squat, and a few strands are out of place in its neat sway over the tops of her shoulders. The Brigadier General inside of Drax itches to come off the chain and the man's customary grin fades to that he had worn back in the service when he was about to smoke some unfortunate pilot who had made a massive lapse in judgment. He folds his hands behind his back as he strides into the room. "Lieutenant, if you have some excess baggage, I suggest you stow it for another day. You've got all the time in the world, so starting this off on a bad foot is really not going to gain you anything at all." He wastes no time heading right for the caf machine, inspecting it for a moment while continuing to talk, "I'm going to give you a pass on this one because you're probably getting a bit stir crazy in here. Now get in here and have a seat with me so we can get this over with." He slaps the side of the machine where the release button was, triggering a door on the top to open up. Lt Kovani bristles at the address. "I renounced my rank when I stepped foot into that reb.." A slow, thin exhale extinguishes the remainder of that comment and she obeys, maybe a tad slowly, and follows Drax to the two-seater table. She swallows, chewing on her tongue for the duration of those steps before standing at attention beside 'her' chair. "They stripped me of my title, sir. Among other things. But thank you, for your understanding." "You know, that's the first step in this sort of talk anyway, so it's good you're sticking to your guns on that." Drax's voice has softened from the one he'd grown to use on the decks of the Crusader and Deliverance years ago and he was back to the same tone he had first used at the door. With the top of the caf machine opened, he pulls a pouch from a bag he was carrying and deposits it in the top before closing the magic machine up and hitting the Start button. "Holovids always show interrogations involving punching a person, yelling at them, and all sorts of things like that, but the truth is that it's all wildly ineffective. You just sit the person down and remind them that their life as they knew it before is over." With the machine churning away in front of him, he pulls down two mugs and then turns to face Kovani once more, looking her over carefully to get a better sense of her. "With that in mind, what do you want? What do you want to do with your life now?" "I..." Watching Drax make himself at home, Liora isn't sure what to make of the situation. Or how best to respond. The man just took all the wind from under her thunder, and now the storm's deflated. All's left is a little rain, but firmly pursed lips and a hard stare into the forward cabinetry keep that at bay. "...Am not quite sure. Um." The nineteen year old parks her ass in a seat and grips the edges with stumpy fingernails. "I know I can't go back. I know 'Ambassador' Delgard wants me to stay. I mean she hasn't really said in so many words, but...you know. She's not the most subtle. I guess I'll work with what options are presently on the table." Pick, pick, pick go the nails. "Yes, I think she left her diplomat hat behind on this one because she's quite easy to read, though she's got a lot to grapple with right now." Drax waves a hand, dismissing that for now. "But that's besides the point. No, going back isn't possible. You'd wind up in a cell or dead, there's just no way they could really ensure you'd be completely loyal. Is that even something you would want?" The Alderaanian leans back against the counter and folds his arms in front of him. "Forget what's being presented. Tell me what you WANT, if you could choose anything. Just spit it out fast before you over think it." Liora relocates her hands to the tabletop, enclosing one fist with another. "A life. I want to be able to operate, to do what I've spent my life training for. Continuing the practice of medicine seems the most practical, most likely to succeed choice. I know nothing else." Shaking her head earnestly in admission, she looks Drax plainly in the eye and bites her inner cheek to keep a handle on the sudden urge to cry. It's true, isn't it? Doctoring - that's all she's good for. No time to have honed other skills. No reason to. It's just like the ambassador said, rambling slurs from her medical pod: Not all Imperials are evil. They're just made that way. Living robots. Not enough room to think freely for themselves. So now that Liora has the room...she draws a blank. "It's a good place to start." Behind him, the caf machine quietly chimes to inform them that it has finished the process. One by one, Drax works the mugs to fill each of them up and sets one in front of Kovani. "I know that right now it looks like your situation couldn't be any worse, but you'll get some more perspective on things when you get some distance from right now. You've got a career that kept you from any real complications in all of this and that is a noble calling." His hands wrap around his mug and he tries to look her in the eyes to try and put a little more spin on the next statement, "And you have a family that wants to help." "I've been in your shoes before. The process sucks. People will look at you a bit differently. Trust is going to take time to earn." The Alderaanian pulls one hand off his mug and points to her. "You've got people you can lean on and a goal to focus on. Believe me when I say those two will mean everything." With his hand still free, he pats at one of his pockets and pulls out a datapad. Holding it up at a good viewing angle, he flicks it on, flips through a few pages, and then pockets the device. "The Jedi cleared you. It was my biggest concern that, given the mental tinkering, there might be something else leftover, but at this point... you are you. It's going to be up to you to figure out that that really means from here on." Liora takes the mug silently, unafraid to resume eye contact while her hands have something productive to do, like hold the hell out of the hot caf. Aroma is tolerable, but she doesn't show any eagerness to sample it. "How long did it take you?" "That's... not an easy question to answer." Drax needs to take time to digest it, having been caught a bit off guard by it. He takes a pull from his caf, holding it in front of his nose for a moment to breath in that lovely smell while he swallows and then continues. "Everyone's situation is a little bit different and it's always front heavy. The first month is the hardest, but people move on. We've had enough defectors over the years that it's something people are more used to." He takes one more sip of his caf and then lets the mug fall on a lower perch more comfortably located near his belt. "In my case, I'm an Alderaanian who was serving when..." His one hand separates from his mug as a gesture to fill in the obvious gap. "It's something I will always carry, but it's also something that has driven me. Mine was a poor, youthful choice, but yours wasn't." His eyes are appraising again as he judges her reaction and general handling of things. "It's a weight you'll carry and it's not for everyone. Some people hide away after they get out, but are you tough enough for more?" He's still watching intently, the eyes of an Infiltrator watching for sentries in the dead of the night, searching for an unsteadiness of hands or gaze on the part of the woman. "I think you're tough enough." The medic's gaze drops just briefly to land in the upwelling of caf steam, considering the question before hitting Drax with an appraisal of her own. The 'infiltrating' eyes of a physician, searching for symptoms, gauging the truth of her patient's claims. The human element is not entirely gone from this precise, sentient instrument of Imperial academy. "Maybe," is the noncommittal response. "But I think it's like you said, easier for those with help already on the other side. She was a flat-lined corpse when they brought her to my pod, but there was still enough left in her to give ME lip...after our machines restarted the ticker. Didn't matter that she couldn't see, feed herself or even manage a sip of water. I thought then that whoever this woman was, this 'terrorist', she must have earned every ounce of her beating. Now, I confess I'm glad she's in my corner. I think toughness can be contagious." A smirk and she finally samples the caf for herself, satisfied that Drax hasn't keeled over yet. "I think it definitely runs in the family, based on the hello I received today." A grin finds its way back to Drax's features as he raises his mug to her. "Now, for the formalities you so wanted to avoid..." Drax switches his mug to his left hand and reaches into a pocket for a small datapad. With his thumb, he flips it on and thumbs through various documents there. "Jedi cleared you, so you are you from here on. Background checks out, from what we have on you. And, medical tests all look good, also confirming the familial match." He flips the datapad off and stashes it back away in his pocket. "And you've said the right things today. Liora Kovani, I would like to welcome you to the New Republic." His hand pulls from his pocket and he extends it forward for a congratulatory shake. Liora follows the path of the datapad with a glance before scrutinizing the offered hand as one generally does legal contracts. A faint flush colors her ears and hairline starts to sweat. Shouldn't be so intense...just a handshake. Right? Looking more apprehensive than relieved, the young woman stirs her own hand to action. Just a formality. A label. Sure, she's denounced the Empire, but can she claim the spirit of a rebel? Liora meets Drax's hand with her smaller, and gives it a reluctant squeeze. "Does this mean I can go?" Drax chuckles a little bit as he shakes her hand, understanding the hesitation. "You're about to see the galaxy for more of what it is. Go with an open mind." He pulls his hand back, finishes his mug, and sets it down in the sink. "You're free to go at this point. We'll check in from time to time, but things won't be anything like they are now. Eventually, you'll be entirely on your own." He looks at her once again, "If you ever need something, I want you to let me know personally." A quick nod of his head, and he starts to head for the door, which opens without having to unlock it now. "Fair weather and following seas, Liora." One former Imperial Navy officer to another, he dips his head and then steps into the hallway, patting at his pants for a nicostick, which is quickly inserted to the corner of his mouth. Completely ignoring the look from the guard, he lights the stick, and then shuffles along and picks up the weight of his upcoming tasks waiting for him there. Category:RP Logs